


and you look so divine

by hlundqvists



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: D/s relationship, Established Relationship, M/M, New York Rangers, Orgasm Denial, sex tears
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-24
Updated: 2015-01-24
Packaged: 2018-03-08 19:59:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3221519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hlundqvists/pseuds/hlundqvists
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>This week, though-- This week, they get to take their time.</i>
</p><p> </p><p>Hank has <i>plans</i> for the All-Star break with Marc.</p>
            </blockquote>





	and you look so divine

**Author's Note:**

> it's been far too long since I've posted anything here for these two. i hope this will tide y'all over until i can get my other fics written and posted. i may or may not add to this, i'm not sure yet. let me know if you want more? c:
> 
> also, title shamelessly taken from 'come and get your love' by redbone.

There couldn’t have been a better way to go into the All-Star break. A three win game streak of the team finding their feet again and a brand new contract for Marc was a good mixture for high feelings of joy. The emotions crawled under Hank’s skin, made him smile bright and true, and the future of six days off to just relax, unwind, and be with Marc was more than he could have hoped for.

It’s still early morning Wednesday when Hank starts to wake up. There’s no alarm blaring obnoxiously to wake him; he just gradually wakes up, able to take his time with it and soak in the warmth of the bed, of Marc sprawled next to him.

Their mornings together are usually a rush. Marc never wanting to get out of bed until the last minute, Hank worrying and fixing his hair while trying (and usually failing) to cook an edible breakfast for both of them.

This week, though-- This week, they get to take their time. They could lounge in bed for six straight days if they choose to and just having that knowledge was so relaxing. It made the tension ease from Hank’s shoulders, helped him relax and just melt into the softness of his bed and the feeling of Marc’s arm draped over his waist.

He watches Marc who is still dead asleep; breathing even and calm, face relaxed and hair a mess from their late night, exhausted make out session before falling asleep. Marc just looks simply divine to Hank. The glow of his hair, the shape of his face, the line of his jaw and neck, those shoulders scattered with freckles; everything about Marc is beautiful, perfect. No one could ever compare.

Attempting to even resist the urge to touch Marc is futile. Hank doesn’t even try. He just brushes his fingers slowly through Marc’s hair, smiling at the sleepy grumble Marc makes as he burrows further against his pillow. 

Hank keeps his touches light, gentle, fingertips running down over the shell of Marc’s ear, to the cut of his jaw. They brush lower down his neck, to his shoulders where freckles are waiting to be lazily connected with one touch followed by another. Marc shifts in his sleep, the touches pulling himself slowly from his dreams and Hank doesn’t stop moving his hand. 

He lets his fingers dance over Marc’s shoulders, tracing lightly over to his spine. He adds a bit more pressure to the touch, moving down under the blanket to rub his palm flat along Marc’s spine. He reaches down, fingers molding over Marc’s ass, squeezing there momentarily before pulling away. 

Marc grumbles loudly, then. 

“Mmmn, don’ stop.”

Hank laughs, turning his head to press a kiss to Marc’s forehead.

“Good morning, beautiful.”

Marc just grunts, reaching for Hank’s hand and shoves it back down to his ass.

“Keep touching me, make it a _good_ morning.”

There’s just something so endearing to Hank about Marc like this; still groggy with sleep, brattiness showing and being pushy for what he wants. It makes Hank almost want to give him what he wants.

 _Almost_.

“You’re so demanding for someone who just woke up.” 

Hank doesn’t move his hand away from Marc’s ass, just letting it rest there, no pressure to the touch at all. Marc whines sleepily, rocking his hips up to push his ass further against Hank’s palm, lips pressing to Hank’s shoulder.

“C’mon, _please_.”

Hank stays quiet, not moving his hand and it leads to Marc quickly growing impatient. He pushes back the covers, flopping over onto his back and starts to lazily stroke himself while looking at Hank.

“If you’re not gonna do it, I am.”

Marc just looks so defiant; lips set in a pout, hand working over his dick slowly. It makes Hank laugh loudly, rolling over to kiss that pout and pushing Marc’s hand away to replace with his own.

Hank swallows the moan that comes from Marc’s lips as he starts to stroke his hand over Marc’s dick slowly. The kiss doesn’t taste very good, morning breath so prominent, but neither one of them cares much in the moment. 

Hank keeps working his hand over Marc, taking his time with it. He runs his thumb along the side of Marc’s dick, starting slowly from the base up to the tip where he presses hard against the slit, making Marc hiss and buck up against him.

“H- _Hank_.”

He loves the way Marc sounds, the way he’s already looking so desperate. 

“Ja, älskling. Let me hear you. You sound so good, you deserve to feel so good.”

Marc whines, hips arching as Hank increases the pace, moving his hand faster. There’s pre-come leaking from Marc’s dick now and Hank moves his thumb over it, rubbing it down over the sides before tightening his grip. A blush is spreading down Marc’s neck and Hank moves his head, lips following that lovely red stain down, down, down to Marc’s chest. 

“Hank, _sir_. P-please.”

Hank just grins, teeth dragging over Marc’s skin before biting down in the middle of his chest. He worries the spot, intent on making a mark that will last for days and slows the pace of his hand. He feels the way Marc’s breath hitches, a spark of arousal running through his body at the way it makes Marc hiccup on a desperate moan.

“Shh, baby. You know I’m going to take care of you.”

Marc curls a hand into Hank’s hair, not pulling or pushing, just holding on for grounding. Hank smiles at that, pressing a kiss to the newly blossoming bruise on Marc’s chest left behind by his teeth. Marc can only whimper, rocking his hips, trying to get more friction from Hank’s hand.

Hank has other plans, though. Plans that he’s not ready to tell Marc yet. 

He takes his hand away, grinning as the protesting whine from Marc dissolves into a low moan as he moves down to take Marc’s dick into his mouth. 

“A-ah, fuck, Hank. H-Hank, that’s--”

Marc’s words trail off, another moan echoing through the room as Hank swallows him down. Before Marc, Hank had never been a huge fan of sucking dick. But there’s just something about Marc that makes it hard for Hank to say no and he _enjoys_ it. He loves the way Marc gets even louder when he’s getting blown, the way his hips roll and fingers clench in Hank’s hair; even the noises he makes are different and Hank loves to hear them all.

He moves slow, taking Marc into his mouth inch by inch until his nose is pressed to the fine cut of Marc’s hip and the head of Marc’s dick is touching the back of his throat. He swallows once, twice, testing to see how Marc will react and he’s not disappointed. Marc’s fingers tighten hard in Hank’s hair, a loud, surprised gasping moan falling from his lips.

“Oh, my god. Oh, g-god. S-sir. Oh, fuck, _Hank_.”

Hank swallows one more time around him before pulling off, panting against him before giving a few small licks to the tip. Marc shudders delightfully, making Hank smile wide in an almost predatory fashion.

“God, I love you.” His voice is a bit hoarse now, but frankly Hank doesn’t care. “I love you so much, Marc. I love you and you’re staying here with me and I just _love_ you so much.”

Marc whines, fingers threading through Hank’s hair, teeth digging against his bottom lip as he gazes down at Hank. “I l-love you, too. Not gonna go anywhere. Just wanna stay here with you forever, sir.”

Hank feels a swell of emotion surge through his chest and he kisses Marc’s hip lightly, then takes his dick into his mouth once more. He takes care to be fully aware of how quickly Marc is reaching the edge of climax, listening to his noises and the way he moves. He sets a steady pace, bobbing his head, licking and sucking along Marc’s dick and not protesting when Marc thrusts up into his mouth a little.

He’s starting to rock his own hips down against the mattress, seeking some friction for his own erection while swirling his tongue just in the right way to draw a shaky gasp from Marc. He keeps going, moving his mouth over Marc and soaking in the moans and muttered curses all being caused just from his mouth. 

It doesn’t take much longer for Marc to get more desperate, for him to start pulling on Hank’s hair and trying to thrust up harder into Hank’s mouth. Hank lets him do it for a few seconds, letting him enjoy the feeling of being in control for that very slight moment. He waits, waits until Marc is whimpering and nearly sobbing. He waits until he knows Marc is only a few more thrusts away from coming.

He waits for Marc to be ready to fall over the edge and come. He waits, waits, waits. 

And pulls away.

Marc lets out a shuddering whine, trying to hold onto Hank and bring him back, to get Hank’s mouth back on him but Hank won’t budge. He wipes his mouth, grinning, and moves back up the bed, taking care to _not_ touch Marc anywhere at all.

There’s something so beautiful about the way Marc looks at Hank with such desperation, such need in his eyes and Hank has to grant him a kiss which Marc surges up into. He tries to pull Hank in, tries to get fully body contact but Hank won’t give and once Marc realizes he won’t win, he pulls away and whimpers.

“W-why are you doing this? I was being so-- so g-good, sir.”

Hank runs his fingers over Marc’s cheek, enjoying the way Marc leans so heavily into the simple touch.

“I know, älskling. I know. You were.”  


Marc makes a confused, hurt noise, his eyes locking on Hank’s and _fuck_ , there are tears forming at the corners and Hank wants to see them fall free; he wants to see and hear Marc cry, beg, plead for Hank to let him come and he just knows - he _knows_ \- that he’s going to get it.

“Why d-did you stop?”

Hank grins, leaning in to touch his forehead to Marc’s, palm cupping Marc’s cheek lightly.

“Because, my darling,” he brushes the lightest of kisses to Marc’s lip, “I have six days to keep you in this bed and do what I want.”

Marc lets out a sob, then.

And Hank starts to kiss the tears away.


End file.
